


so good to you

by limned



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, F/M, Pegging, Rough Sex, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 16:29:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10768089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limned/pseuds/limned
Summary: This isn’t the time to tease him, not with his eyes so wide and hazy, his expression shifting rapidly between eagerness and fear.





	so good to you

Natasha knows that he likes it when he immediately goes still and stares.

She gives him the space to look, setting it on the bed and twisting toward the dresser to find lube. Clint’s already at her side when she turns back. She can hear his breathing start to go uneven as he reaches to trace his fingers along the wide ripples of the clear glass. “It’s big,” he says, low and hoarse.

“It is,” she agrees simply. This isn’t the time to tease him, not with his eyes so wide and hazy, his expression shifting rapidly between eagerness and fear.

Clint wraps his hand around it and she can hear when he swallows hard, because his thumb and middle finger don’t come close to touching around the width. She shifts to press her shoulder against his bare chest and he makes a small sound in the back of his throat, leaning into her, his cheek brushing against her hair.

She waits another minute to settle him before ordering, “Elbows and knees. Now.”

He’s down on the bed so fast that she would smile if she had enough thought processes left for anything but silver-sharp lust, watching the muscles of his back and shoulders flex as he kneels and braces down on his elbows, spreading for her. He shivers when her weight settles behind him and Natasha rubs one palm firmly over his thigh to the the small of his back, down over the hard curve of his ass, nudging his knees a little wider.

He’s already panting when she slides the first finger inside him and she doesn’t go slow, doesn’t give him time to get too impatient, working quickly up to three fingers and then four, stretching him and adding more lube with every push. “Shut up,” she says absently, when Clint starts to twitch and she knows he’s a second away from whining at her to go faster, because she’s never taken him with something this big and she isn’t going to let him get hurt.

Well. He’s going to hurt, but only as much as she wants him to.

Natasha locks the base of the cock into her harness and slicks it rapidly, watches how the sounds register on him, his back arching as he tries to spread his knees even wider. He’s already yanked down a pillow and buried his face so she can’t even see his profile, though she knows what he’d look like if she could, the lines of need and desperation that he always wants to hide at the beginning.

The harness snugs tight around her hips and between her legs but without anything extra on the inside, nothing but the exquisite pressure of the straps. She doesn’t want any additional distraction when she needs to focus on his responses.

Clint goes completely still again when she kneels in position and uses both hands to push the cheeks of his ass apart, her thumbs sliding in and prying his slick hole open. She puts the tip of the glass cock in place, and the tiny broken moan he makes is like electricity straight to her brain.

For a few seconds it feels impossible as she presses forward, too big, not enough space in his body, but she wraps a tight hand around his hip and pulls him and _pushes_ , slow but relentless, and he shoves his face harder into the pillow and screams as she finally breaches him.

It looks so amazing that she’d have to pause even if Clint didn’t need adjustment time. She can see the dark red skin just inside him, through the glass.

He’s gasping for air and screams again when she keeps pressing. But it’s nowhere near as loud as the first one and she doesn’t stop, rocking slowly back and forth with only the first two inches. Breaking him in, and that thought makes her flush all over, hot and brutal with the intensity of taking him this way. She forces another inch and he’s shaking, short cries that sound like they’re punched out of his chest every time her hips press forward, sweat on the back of his neck that she wishes she could lick off.

Natasha sees it in time when his shoulders tense before he tries to push back on her. She stops him with one hand braced against his ass and uses the other to slap viciously hard on the side of his thigh, snarling, “ _No_ , don’t you fucking dare.”

He goes rigid, shaking with the effort of staying still, and drags his head up far enough to gasp, “Sorry, I’m sorry, just… please, Nat, I need more—“

“I know what you need,” she bites out, and hears how her voice has gone dangerous, down at least a half-register, and sees it reflected when Clint shudders and drops his face to hide again. “I know it, and you’ll wait until I give it to you.”

“Yes,” he groans into the pillow, muffled and desperate. “I’ll wait. Please.”

She makes him take the next three inches as slowly as possible; it’s half punishment but also necessary, even if he doesn’t agree. His ass is stretched so wide that it barely looks real, flexing around the slick glass, and he cries out every time she pushes forward to make more room inside him. She’s not going to risk tearing him, and she knows his sounds well enough to tell that there’s still more pain than pleasure.

That changes abruptly when she pulls back with just the tip inside, applies more lube, and slides in again to start working for the seventh inch.

Clint’s body flinches and he lets out a shout dissolving into a moan that keep going, his hips twisting, searching, and Natasha bites her lip hard and shoves into him, fighting to keep the same depth and angle. She knows it worked when he starts begging again. “Please, please, right there, don’t stop, please let me,” he chokes out, and she gives him four more hard strokes across his prostate before he’s shaking under her and coming, groaning high and broken with his face turned enough for her to see the tears squeezing out of his eyes.

Natasha needs the long space to breathe and get herself under control while he recovers; the strap between her legs tightened enough during the final strokes to push her halfway to orgasm, but Clint can’t take it if she goes at him hard right now. She forces her hips still and concentrates, running her hands over him, carefully leaning down to press a kiss between his shoulders. “Gorgeous,” she murmurs into his skin. “So good.”

Clint makes a blurry sound and shifts against her. “Thank you,” he says, soft and distant like he’s only halfway with her.

She works the last four inches into him while he’s still relaxed from coming: easy and cautious, listening to every noise, every hitch in his breathing. He isn’t hiding in the pillow anymore and his head is still turned so she can see his face twisting with slow pleasure, his eyelashes moving against his cheeks. His arms are stretched over his head now, fingers loose, and he’s slumped down enough that she can lean forward and brace herself on the bed while she fucks him, going deep and pulling back, so slow. He huffs out a quiet moan every time she presses all the way inside.

It’s a long time but doesn’t feel that way, sliding in and out of him, because Natasha wants to do this forever.

Eventually he starts writhing under her, bright color in his face, whispering, “Please,” and she knows he’s hard again. She wants to keep going, driving into him until the strap friction brings her off while he’s pinned down and spread wide and vulnerable underneath her, but she can’t do it when his voice cracks and he says, hoarse and pleading, “Don’t make me come this way again, please, want to feel you, please,” and then, much softer, “Natasha,” and she breaks. 

It takes seven or eight infuriating seconds to release the harness straps and throw it aside and flip him over on his back.

Clint’s face is wide open and stunned as she slides down, his cock stretching her so fast that she knows it will barely take her any time to come. He looks drugged, half-broken, his hands still stretched over his head, rocking desperately into her and whimpering as she bites at his lip, and it turns out to be only three strokes when he goes tight and straining and her orgasm rips through her.

Natasha pulls herself together instantly because Clint has curled halfway into a ball, trembling and breathing so fast he’s almost sobbing, his face pressed into her neck. “Hey,” she says quietly, wrapping her arms tight around him. “Clint. I’m here.”

“Yeah,” he says faintly. He tries to take a deep breath that ends in another half-sob. “Okay. Need a minute.”

“If you only need a minute, I didn’t do it right,” she murmurs into his hair, and smiles when he manages a choked laugh, holding him close, and waits for him to uncurl enough so she can check his eyes and kiss him.


End file.
